THE TALE OF THE ART SCHOOL AFFAIR
Sara L. Russell
She looked like a Pre-Raphaelite:
a haze of red hair, ashen skin,
a black skirt under a smock of white,
lips like petals carved in sin,
and you were my Eros, framed in gold,
lush curving locks around your face,
she stole the friend I had dreamed to hold,
body and soul, with her stealthy grace.
She lured your eye with no effort at all;
I began to disappear.
I became transparent, small,
I was the voice too low to hear.
You and she were everywhere,
in all my favourite college haunts –
Eros and Pre-Raphaelite-Hair,
with silent looks that pierced like taunts.
The pain grew deeper, a dull ache,
a self-devouring, dark despair.
Hearts beat on. Only egos break
mine shattered as I saw you there –
until your hormones overcame
your face, to cover it with spots.
How I laughed! Oh, what a shame,
now the golden Eros rots!